


Stood Up at the Altar

by LittleMissSpaceCadet



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I'm terrible at tags don't mind me, Wedding Day, anxiety attack, ends with fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:47:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25776109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissSpaceCadet/pseuds/LittleMissSpaceCadet
Summary: Connor Murphy One-Shot / self-insert~“I was just walking around greeting guests, and suddenly out of the corner of my eye, I see my parents. And Zoe. And at first, I thought maybe they were crashing our wedding—doesn’t seem too out of character for them. But then your parents were telling them ‘how happy we all were they could make it.’”You felt your stomach drop.“Do you want to explain to me why my family is here?”
Relationships: Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen)/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	Stood Up at the Altar

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I wrote this forever ago for Tumblr but thought I'd post it on AO3 too. I had a dream about marrying Connor Murphy that went something like this, and it compelled me to write it into a fic. Some angst, hurt comfort, and lastly fluff can be found in this story. Enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: slight innuendo, swearing, mentions of a heart attack, and the reader experiences some anxiety and dissociation in the story

You were mere minutes away from your ceremony. You had just put on the dress when you got a text from Connor telling you he had to speak to you. You frowned, but nonetheless wrapped a bathrobe around yourself, and made your way down the hall to the hotel room you two would be staying in.

Connor stood in the middle of the room, clad in a black suit that you’d helped him pick out. He looked stunning. “Hey, what’s up?” You hugged the bathrobe closer around your body, trying to keep the surprise by obscuring your dress from view.

“What are they doing here?” Connor crossed his arms in front of his chest, watching you expectantly. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, taking a step towards him.

Something in Connor shifted, and the tension in the room became palpable. “Oh don’t give me that, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” He seemed almost speechless like there were too many words coming into his brain, but he couldn't decide which ones took priority. He let out a frustrated breath. “I was just walking around greeting guests, and suddenly out of the corner of my eye, I see my parents. _And Zoe._ And at first I thought maybe they were crashing our wedding—doesn’t seem too out of character for them. But then your parents were telling them ‘how happy we all were they could make it.’” You felt your stomach drop. “Do you want to explain to me why my family is here?”

You bit your lip, afraid to speak. You had intended to warn him this morning, but with everything… it had slipped your mind. Standing across from him now, you could see etched all over Connor’s face how terrible of an idea this had been. Circling the truth would only make things worse. “I invited them.”

It was the answer Connor had been expecting, but a look of betrayal crossed his face all the same. Then there was a silence that almost enveloped you. You watched Connor, gripping your bathrobe like it was your lifeboat, trying to find some way to turn this around. Connor turned away from you, gazing out the window, so perfectly calm it was almost terrifying. “I didn’t want you to regret not having them here,” you said softly, scared to make your voice above a whisper. Everything suddenly felt so fragile.

His voice was flat. “But that really wasn’t your decision to make, was it?”

“I—”

 _"No,”_ he whirled on you. “You don’t get to go around acting like you know what's best for me. Going behind my back? _During our wedding?_ ” you tried to speak again, but he continued, not letting you. “We’re not fucking playing dolls Y/N, you can’t just rearrange everything whenever you feel like it.” Connor ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to make sense of what he was feeling. “You couldn’t bear to have a husband who might have his own baggage or, or—his own fucking issues. Is that it?” 

Tears were wetting your face, but you ignored them as you took another step towards Connor, hands outstretched. “I’m not trying to fix you,” you tried to meet his eyes. You needed him to hear you—needed him to understand. 

“No,” he said, resigned, making his way to sit on the bed. “Just change me.”

His words stung. You’d been together all these years, and that’s really what he thought of you? Really who he thought you were? “Of course I’m not trying to change you,” you responded, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 

Connor didn’t respond. He wouldn’t even look at you. You kept reminding yourself that Connor lashed out when he was hurt, and riling him up would only make things worse. You lowered your voice again. “I’ll send them away. I’ll tell them it was a misunderstanding, and that they need to leave.”

Connor let out a laugh, but it was humourless and misplaced as it sat in the space between you. “No, let them stay,” You furrowed your brows, confused by his change of heart. He shifted his gaze back to you, and his expression was unreadable. “But tell them I won’t be attending.”

At first you thought you hadn’t heard him correctly. 

_How can you not attend your own wedding?_

Your heart sunk before you even fully processed his words or what they meant. It was as if you were having a nightmare. This all felt too surreal and awful to be happening. “No, Connor, I’ll just send them—”

“You broke my trust. I'm not—” he cut himself off, burying his head in his hands. You stood there, numb. “You lied to me. I’m not marrying you like this.” He didn’t meet your eyes as he shattered everything into a million pieces.

You felt like you were going to be sick. Your whole body was shaking, and you were searching for words that could fix this—that could make this better somehow. But you came up with nothing. “Just… tell them it’s off. We’ll talk about this later.” He said, his eyes trained on the floor.

Your mind went blank. Looking at Connor, you realized there was nothing you could do. You turned on your heel and left the room.

~

You didn’t bother to take your wedding dress off.

You were a ball of hurt and mortification; the best day of your life was ruined, the most important relationship you’d ever had might have been as well, and at your core, you knew it was all your fault. 

Everything was so broken that all the little things felt so irrelevant in comparison. You didn’t care how sad it was to be sitting to the side eating your own wedding cake as your mother stood in front of everyone to announce that your wedding was cancelled.

Due to the expenses of the whole event, people were invited to stay and eat the food that had been prepared. Most people had the right mind to leave as soon as they could, but a few braved the somber remnants of the event. They drank champagne and ate pieces of cake, sending regretful glances your way. Your Maid of Honor and best friend Zella sat with you, a glass of champagne in hand. Periodically people came up to you and gave their condolences. You barely knew how to respond except for a meek “thank you for coming.” If you had been in a regular state of mind, their apologies would’ve made everything worse, but your head was underwater. Almost nothing could make you feel worse. 

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Zella asked, putting her hand lovingly on your shoulder. You shook your head, putting another forkful of cake in your mouth. It tasted incredible, which made you really angry. She let out a sigh, taking a sip of her champagne. 

The venue was mostly empty now. You’d booked rooms in the hotel across the street because it was so close to where you were supposed to hold your reception, and it would be easy to get ready and then walk over. Now the building mocked you as it stood there, the window to you and Connor’s room visible from where you were seated. “I can’t believe he left you at the altar,” Zella said disdainfully. 

You groaned, shoving more stupidly delicious cake in your face. “Well, he didn’t really leave me,” you muttered, the cake impairing your ability to speak. You grabbed the champagne from Zella’s hand, taking a long sip to help you wash down the dessert. “He’s like a five-minute walk away. He just stood me up.” You had whiplash from how quickly everything had gone wrong. “I just… I dreamed of this day for so long, and just like that, it all came apart.” 

Your friend opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything one of your cousins came running up, face red and alarmed. “Y/N, it’s your mom—”

“What?” You were on your feet in seconds, the urgency in their voice scaring you. 

“She just collapsed. Your dad said it was a heart attack? The ambulance just got here, and right now they’re driving her—” your whole world went quiet. You didn't know it was possible to feel both freezing cold and scorching hot at once, but your body was at odds, and your brain just sat there doing nothing. What happened? Why couldn’t you breathe? 

Your cousin's lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear anything. You vaguely felt arms around you. _Zella._ She had her arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up. 

The two were talking frantically, but they may as well have been speaking in another language because all you could hear were the words _heart attack_ over and over. The next time you looked up, your cousin was gone. Your body was shaking. You realized you were crying, but you didn’t know when you’d started. 

Zella was trying to get your attention, repeating your name over and over. You locked eyes with her, searching for some kind of answer. “We’re going to meet them at the hospital, Y/N. But first we have to go take your dress off. Your dad is with her, so she’s not alone.” Zella’s voice was soft like she was trying to coax a small animal out of hiding. You could barely see her. Your vision felt like watercolour. 

Another sob racked your body, but your friend just hung on tighter. “She’ll be okay,” she kept repeating, over and over, as if saying it would make it true. She led you through the hotel, past rows and rows of doors. You were fighting to breathe as Zella helped you down the hall towards the room you’d gotten ready in. Once you were inside, your numb hands started pulling frantically at your dress, trying to get it off of your body. You needed to get it off. _You needed to get it off._ After a few more tugs you gave up. You started backing up until your legs hit the edge of the bed and you sat down. As soon as the mattress had caught your weight, you curled in on yourself. The tears were coming faster than before. You felt ripped open. 

_“What’s happening?”_

You hadn’t heard Connor enter, but somehow his voice had made its way through your panic. He sounded concerned, almost desperate, and you could picture the face he was probably making. Everything about him had become so _known_ to you, and in any other situation that would’ve brought you peace. Now it only made you ache. You started breathing in short bursts, your body tensing up, as if it was trying to squeeze itself to death. You could hear Zella explaining what had happened, and her words only made things worse. Everything was way, _way_ too real. 

You vaguely felt two hands on either leg, right at the spot where your knee turns into your thigh. Through the heavy fabric of your gown, you could feel circles being rubbed lightly into your skin. “Hey,” Connor said softly. “Y/N, look at me. Please.” You were shaking, your arms hugging yourself in a death grip. You wanted to dissolve, to stop existing. Instead, you lifted your head. 

Connor’s warm eyes met yours, searching. Your gut twisted, but before you could bury your head back between your knees his hands came up to either side of your face, helping you stay upright. “Hey,” he said again, as his fingers skimmed over your cheeks, wiping away the tears that were overflowing. “Try to breathe with me, okay?” He started taking slow, exaggerated breaths. 

_In, out, in, out, in, out..._

Zella was unlacing your wedding dress behind you, but you barely noticed. All your effort was going into breathing. You focused on the rise and fall of Connor’s chest and the sound of the air leaving his lips. You willed your body to cooperate, but you were shutting down. “I’m right here okay, just focus on me.” He tucked some loose hairs behind your ear, and it sent a ticklish sensation through your body. You started to ground yourself slowly as your breath started coming easier. “That’s it, just breathe.” 

As soon as he’d spoken, Zella announced the dress was unlaced. Connor pulled your hands from your lap and placed them on his shoulders so you could brace yourself as he helped you stand up. “Do you want me to wait outside?” He asked, taking a step back from you. You felt unstable, and Connor watched you, ready at any moment to step forward if you needed help standing. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. 

Waiting outside meant he wasn’t leaving. He was still here for you. Waiting outside meant things were alright, at least for now. “Yes,” you said, your voice wavering. He nodded, concern etched into his face. You didn’t know what to do or what to say. After a moment, he turned and left. 

~

Connor offered to drive you to the hospital. You sat in the passenger seat, with your legs tucked up to your chest. Buildings were passing by you, and the sunny demeanour of the world around you felt offensive in the face of all that was happening. Anxiety did a waltz in your gut, keeping you locked within yourself. Your whole body was like a tightened ball of wire. 

In your periphery you could see Connor glance over at you for maybe the tenth time this car ride. He looked scared and unsure, something you weren’t used to. The air you were breathing felt thick, and you tried to keep your mind focused on the images outside your window, and not on all the worst-case scenarios yelling at you from the back of your brain. No matter how hard you tried to redirect your focus, one word was taunting you. You just kept hearing it, over and over. 

_Death, death, death—_

Connor’s hand grabbed yours, squeezing. You felt yourself come back to the small car as you watched his thumb move up and down the side of your hand. It was the only sensation holding you to the moment. As long as focused on that small feeling, you could be okay. You would have to be. 

~

You and Connor had walked into the waiting room, where your dad was sitting in anxious anticipation. With considerable side eye at Connor, your dad had explained everything that had happened, going into detail about how your mom had just collapsed while she was helping to clean up. Almost immediately after your arrival a doctor started heading towards you with a clipboard in her grip. Your body tensed as you shifted to look at her. You searched the expression on her face, hoping it would betray what she was about to say, hoping it would betray she wasn’t carrying bad news.

“She’s in stable condition. The heart attack wasn't very severe, and luckily she was brought here quickly enough that we could help her before too much damage was done,” you were so relieved you could’ve fallen over. “She’s awake now, but will be very tired, so you can visit her, but not for too long. She’ll need to rest.”

“I’ll wait for you here,” Connor said, taking a seat in one of the uncomfortable-looking chairs. You nodded, mouthing a small thank you before turning to follow the Doctor to the room they were keeping your mom in.

She smiled when you walked into her. She looked bone tired, a juxtaposition the way she had been smiling at you this morning, back before everything had gone wrong. ‘Hi Mom,” you said in a small voice, leaning over to give her the gentlest, but warmest hug you could. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” she smiles.

The three of you sat in a grateful silence for a moment, relishing the calmness that had come after the storm. “God, what a big day.”

“You can say that again,” your dad says, reaching out and taking your mother's hand. “And guess who drove her here?” Your Dad said, raising his eyebrows at you.

Your mom frowned. “Who?”

“None other than the runaway groom himself.” Your Dad didn’t sound approving or disapproving, just amused. 

_“Dad,”_ you punched his shoulder, though not hard enough to hurt him, and he chuckled. 

“Does this mean you guys are going to be okay?” She asked, the look on her face hopeful. She’d always been fond of Connor, so when you’d told her you two were getting married she had been overjoyed.

You sighed, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Now that all peril was over, you realized you had to actually face the whole wedding situation, even though every part of you wanted to melt back into a sense of normalcy. “I really hope so.”

Your mom looked thoughtful for a moment before simply saying, “go.” 

“What?” You furrowed your brow, not fully sure you were ready to leave your mom’s side. 

She reached out and grabbed your hand. “I’m alright. Go home with Connor, you’ve had a long day. And you two have a lot to talk about.” She gave it a small squeeze before releasing it. 

“Are you sure mom?” You asked, not fully wanting to leave her here. 

Your dad patted your shoulder. “She’ll be fine, she needs some sleep anyway. I’ll hold down the fort.”

You looked between the two of them, trying to gauge if they were truly fine with you leaving. A part of you was so exhausted though, so you decided not to fight it. “I love you both.”

You made your way back to the waiting room where Connor was sitting with his long legs stretched out in front of him. He looked like he was falling asleep, but when he saw you approaching he came to alert. “How is she?”

“She’s good,” you let out a breath. “She wanted me to go home, get some rest.” Connor nodded, and both of you made your way to leave, walking beside each other at a perfectly matched pace. Neither of you spoke a word as you navigated the hospital halls. 

Hospitals were never a place you enjoyed, but when you’d walked in merely an hour ago it had looked like a crime scene. But the washed-out wallpaper and synthetic lights didn’t seem as grotesque anymore. They made you feel hopeful, almost. 

“You look tired, I’ll drive,” you extended your hand expectantly, waiting for Connor to place his car keys onto your palm. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so. However tired I look, you look about... ten times worse.” Connor unlocked the car and yanked open the drivers side door, careful not to scrape the car beside him as he maneuvered in.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, hurriedly getting in the passenger seat. “Uncalled for.”

Connor laughed, glancing over at you as you buckled your seat belt. “I’m sorry, but the truth hurts.” He reached over and pulled down your mirror, and you were met with two wild looking raccoon eyes. 

“Oh my god.”

“Yep,” Connor said smugly, moving to put on his own seatbelt. Your makeup had run down your face from all the crying, and trails off mascara were interrupted from where you had probably wiped the tears away. You reached a hand up to try and smooth down your hair: there was something crazed about the way it was sticking up all over the place, contradicting the perfect way it had been styled earlier in the day. 

You stared for a moment longer, tilting your head from side to side to get the full view. All the stress of the day came washing over you, and you couldn’t stop yourself. You started laughing. “I look like a Tim Burton character,” today was meant to be perfect, but instead you got this shit show. “I’m like the corpse bride,” you said. “No wonder you didn’t want to marry me.”

Connor froze, his hand on the ignition. You wiped some stray tears from beneath your eyes, realizing you were starting to blur the lines between laughing and crying. “How many times can I cry in a day? You’d think I’d be dry at this point.” You reached up and flipped the car mirror out of sight. The girl in its reflection was mocking you with how close and cracked open she was. You couldn’t bear looking at her anymore. You couldn’t bear that she was you. 

There was a vast silence as Connor seemed to be struggling to figure out what to say. “That’s not what that was about.” You were acutely aware of the divide between you two. The small space between your two seats suddenly felt like an entire ocean. 

“No, I know, it’s because I lied. I understand that.” You started wringing your hands, needing a movement to focus on while you spoke. “And I’m sorry. I’m really really sorry.” Connor just watched you, not saying a word. “But you left me, Connor.” 

“I didn’t leave you,” he said defensively. “I mean, how else was I supposed to react?” It was your turn to say nothing, turning your gaze out the window. “Did you really want us to get married while I was mad at you?” he didn’t elaborate further, so you pictured it. The feeling of distance between you tainting your wedding memories forever, his eyes avoiding yours, both of you only smiling for the cameras, a honeymoon spent in a bed facing away from each other.

You reached up and wiped another tear from your cheek. “No.” You met his eyes, unable to avoid them anymore. “When I walk down the aisle I want you to see me and—” you breathed in sharply, trying to get the words out, but your chest felt like it was constricting. You couldn’t keep the cry from your voice as you said, _“I want you to see me and be happy.”_

Connor’s whole demeanour softened. You brought your hands up to your chest, pressing against your sternum, trying to take your sadness and trap it within your lungs. He reached across the divide and took both your hands in his, pulling you back to reality. “And I _will_ be,” he said, giving you a small, melancholic smile. You nodded silently, more tears falling. “Today just wasn’t our day… and that’s okay.”

“I’m sorry I tried to force you to reconcile with your family. That wasn’t my place.” You gave his hands a squeeze. “But it’s not because I think you’re broken. I’ve never thought that, and I’m sorry I didn’t make that clearer.”

Connor brought your hands up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “Thanks for saying that.” You pulled your hands from his grasp and reached for his hair, playing with the locks hanging loose at his cheeks. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, even if I was angry.” 

You leaned across the seats, and pressed a kiss to his lips, and Connor’s hands automatically came up to run lightly across your sides. You pulled away, and smiled at him. “So where do we go from here?” You asked him, retreating back to your side of the car, eyes not leaving his face. 

Connor pondered that for a moment. “Well, I still want to get married.

“Me too.”

“Why not…” Connor asked slowly, scrunching his face in thought. “Why don’t we elope?”

 _“Now?”_ you looked at him incredulously. “Connor, I look like a zombie.”

Connor laughed, sizing you up. “You’ve looked worse.” 

_“Connor!”_ you crossed your arms in front of your chest. He laughed at you, but his words didn’t sting. If anything, it made you feel relieved that the tension between you was finally dissipating.

“But no, not today. I don’t even know when. But maybe we should just have a small, personal wedding, just us. That feels a little more our speed.”

You mulled that over for a moment. You’d always thought you would have a big white wedding, but today had been so exhausting the prospect of doing it all over again seemed gross. “I don’t think we could afford any other kind of wedding,” you said, but your mind was already racing with possibilities. “And we could do it somewhere nice! Somewhere out of town.”

Connor grinned, and your heart warmed up. “Yes, that sounds perfect.”

“At least I’ve already bought my wedding dress, so that’s one less expense.”

“And,” the look he gave you sent shivers down your spine, “you looked… beautiful in it.” He leaned right close to your ear, speaking in a hushed tone. “I was jealous I wasn’t the one unlacing it.” Your breath hitched. He nipped at your neck, and you yelped, pushing him off you with a laugh.

“I was bawling my eyes out you perv!” You exclaimed, thinking back to the only time he’d seen you in your dress. You leaned back against the car door and gave him a look, “And you’ll get your turn, believe me.”

Connor took your face in his hands, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. You wrapped your arms around him, getting as close as you could without losing your balance. He pulled away to meet your eyes. “I look forward to it.” He pressed another small kiss to the tip of your nose, before going back to his seat and starting the car. “Now lets get home, you actually look like you're going to pass out.”

“Ha. Ha.” you said, giving him a mock sour look, a small smile peeking through.

He watched you for a moment, and you wish you could’ve captured the look of admiration on his face. You studied every part of him, hoping to hold this moment in your memory forever. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” you said as he started driving. You settled back into your seat, and not even a moment later you were fast asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts if you have any :) always interested in discussing connor murphy, writing, and broadway


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